Groceries
by The Deidara Effect
Summary: Deidara is broke, homeless, and the only place willing to - read: forced to - hire him is an unusually-named convenience store.  AU - Las Vegas
1. Whoppers and Stereotypes

**DISCLAIMER:** **I do not own _Naruto_, even though I would treat the characters better. And if I did, you would all know.**

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><p>Deidara knew he was in trouble when he couldn't afford his Whopper (no onions). He stood at the counter, fumbling with his wallet, but no matter how much he dug, he was still twenty cents short. The cashier's double chin got redder and squishier as he waited impatiently for the dumb blond to magically pull an extra twenty cents out his ass.<p>

"Dammit," Deidara mumbled. He patted his front and back pockets. Nothing. But the chic behind him was entertained for that brief moment.

He looked at the cashier's squinty black eyes with his own ceil one. He grinned sheepishly. "Uh, can I pay you back later, hm?"

The fat man's eyebrows twitched. "You could get _out_," he spat. "Dumb blond …"

Deidara frowned. "I _heard_ that, fatty!"

"I'm not fat; I'm big boned!" the man said in his defense.

The "dumb blond" smirked. "But bones don't jiggle, hm."

"_That's it! Get outta here!_"

Deidara scooped up the two hundred forty-nine pennies he had piled on the counter and put them back in his sack. "Whatever, I'll just take my business elsewhere." He turned, head held high, and marched right on out of that Burger King like the dignified hobo he was.

The sky was a soft blue-violet and warmly-hued clouds swirled around the barren mountains the sun was setting behind. A picture perfect scene, it was. The air was still cozily warm but smelt like smog. Well, Vegas wasn't perfect.

Deidara sat on the sidewalk, back to a street light, and watched impassively as SUV's and BMW's sped by. A little cardboard sign was lazily strung around his neck. He perked up when a couple smokin' redheads jogged toward him. He plastered on his lady-killer smile and slyly bet they couldn't hit him with a quarter.

The girls laughed, shook their heads, and jogged right past him and across the street. Deidara _tsked_ at them but then self-consciously rubbed his cheeks in case five o'clock shadow was creeping in. It was. Very well then. He instinctively reached into his pants pocket for some clay before realizing he had used up the last of it two days ago in an attempted assassination against Charlie Sheen.

Deidara resorted to fiddling with his bangs. As narcissistic as this sounds, he always did think the colour of his hair was one of the most beautiful variations of blond. It was naturally, literally the colour of gold and seemed to sparkle in the right light. He tightened his half pony tail and ran his hand through it to detangle it. At least he still had _that_ to be proud of.

He sighed. Yawned. Stretched a little. The usual. Unlike his rival hobo, Hank, whose territory was the sidewalk parallel his own, Dei didn't need to stalk up and down the pavement. He didn't need to hold up his sign and coyly smile at each and every car that had to wait for the green light. Usually people just came to him, probably amused by the fact that he was surprisingly clean and neat. Of course, that was also the reason they never gave him money – he wasn't convincing enough. Real hobos had to be grimy, bearded, sweet-hearted Christians. Dei, the exact opposite of that, was quite tired of that offensive stereotype.

So he was creative. The sign he had read, "Obama ain't the only one who wants change." It was clever enough, but all that gave him was $2.49 every day. Actually, now that he thought about it, quite creepily he _always_ reaped $2.49 every day. And he used that on cigarettes.

"Speaking of cigarettes." He pulled out the pack he got yesterday and lit one up. He coughed. He only started smoking just a couple weeks ago – damn Hank.

As Dei lay there, calmly smoking and thinking deep thoughts, the gaunt manager/clerk of Butt Drugs convenience store/pharmacy left work. Butt Drugs, despite its name, did not specialize in butts, drugs (the illegal kind), or drugs meant to be up butts. Its name was part of the reason Dei chose this particular corner as his home. Dei went in there once to check it out; the only worker there, it seemed, was stereotypically Indian and spoke with a heavy Hindi accent. It was hate at first sight.

Anil, the Indian guy, was polite to Dei as he was to all his customers. However, all that blond did was complain about the store's "misleading" name. Misleading indeed! Because of the commotion he was causing, he politely asked the boy to leave. "Why don't you learn to speak English, hm? I can't understand your accent!" the boy had snapped. That's when Anil officially banned Dei from the store. Unfortunately, since Anil walked to and from work, he usually had to cross paths with that blond anyway.

Anil gave Deidara his customary glare as he walked up to him. Deidara glanced disinterestedly at him and puffed some smoke, returning to his field of paper - no, clay flowers. Anil furiously jabbed at the button and tapped his foot as he waited for what felt like an eternity for the signal. He stood on the other side of the pole so the blond wouldn't even be in his peripheral vision.

"Hey," Deidara suddenly said.

"I refuse to look at you," Anil gruffly replied.

"You got any spare change?"

Deidara looked back when no reply came. Anil had already crossed the street.

"Whatever, hm."

The sky went from lavender to violet to dark blue to black in no time. Deidara, using his sack as a pillow and his black jacket as a blanket, curled into a barely visible and insignificant ball on the sidewalk. He faced the brick wall. Since the street was on a slope and Deidara's corner was at the top of it, the wall got taller and taller as you went down. Babies fall asleep watching monkeys and moons slowly spin over them to a gentle lullaby; Deidara, gazing at that wall. It was his companion. His only companion.

Night was the only time he wished he had his own bed to lay in, or even just a futon so he wouldn't have to deal with hardness of the dusty concrete or the water bugs and such.


	2. Ominous Heroism

Morning came cold and pale. Only the sun's light peeked out above the mountains and a couple stars could still be seen if you looked hard enough. Five forty-five was wakey-wakey time for our homeless hero.

He awoke to discover a crinkled and ripped up newspaper had decided to rest on his face. He casually brushed it off and sat up, back aching like it always did. A still line of cars blocked Hank from his view, which was all good and well since Hank was abnormally ugly anyway. Yawning, Dei winced at the taste of his breath and knew it was time to jay walk over to McDonald's. Because of sixteen years of kung fu training, he easily slipped between the fast-moving cars and successfully arrived at his destination without a scratch.

Before entering, he did a quick pit check and decided it was passable. He rubbed his cheeks and growled bitterly when he felt stubble. He'd probably freak the kids out. Then he realized he had forgotten his money sack _again_. He looked in dismay in the direction of the lonely, tattered sack, separated from him by a mile-long line of angry drivers in Hummers. Sure, he could just jump over them, but the last thing he needed was the cops on his butt.

"Hey, Blondie!" a gruff voice called.

Deidara scowled and ignored it.

"Yo!" Hank shook Deidara's shoulder.

"Piss off!" Deidara snarled. He brushed back his bang and gave the vagabond the evil eye.

Hank's tangled brown beard moved as he grinned. "Whaddya think of my new sign?" He proudly held up, "Family kidnapped by that guy over there → Need $$ for kung fu lessons."

Deidara resisted the urge to roundhouse kick him then and there, the uncreative and distasteful bastard. He bolted across the street as soon as the cars began moving and once again made it without a scratch, leaving a guffawing Hank behind. "Ya forgit some'n'! Yer so poor, ya can't even afford the Dollar Menu! Ha!"

Speaking of poverty, our hero was horrified. His sack full of hard-earned (collected) pennies – gone! He was this close to bombing the whole damn city up.

Even though this conclusion wasn't logical, he still blamed Hank. He couldn't make direct eye contact with his rival because of the passing cars, but he still glared viciously at him and mentally stabbed him three times.

Trying to keep his cool, he sped-walked up and down the pavement, looking in the gutter and every crack there was just in case his sack somehow wound up in those unlikely places. He went as far as the next intersection. Nothing. He started to panic. Almost as soon as he turned to go back he accidentally ran right into another man, knocking the guy and the case he was carrying onto the ground.

The redhead shook his head in a sort of daze.

"Oh, sorry man," Dei absentmindedly said. He didn't offer him his hand; his mind was still focused on his missing money. Deidara wasn't sure if he should just continue walking or wait for the guy to say something.

The fetching redhead grabbed his case and stood up. He used his free hand to brush off his suit. He glared at the blond with chamoisee eyes.

"You better watch where you're going, brat." The redhead's voice was soft but threatening.

Deidara wasn't in the mood for random confrontations, but he couldn't stop the following words from coming out of his mouth: "'Brat'? Who're you calling 'brat'? You look like you're _younger_ than me, hm."

With lightning-fast speed and surprising strength, the little redhead grabbed a hold of Deidara's jacket and almost lifted him into the air. Deidara raised his eyebrows at the guy's sudden temper. "Hey, hey, hey, chill out, hm," he said.

He let go of him but clearly wasn't finished yet. "I'm a lot older than you think I am," he stated. "I know you live on that corner over there, so you better watch your tone with me or else you're dead."

"Because I'm _so_ scared of you," Deidara scoffed. "Now if you'll excuse me, hm." He shouldered past his new enemy, and without looking back, stalked over to his corner.

The sun pulled itself higher into the sky, lighting it baby blue. Judging by that, Deidara knew it was around seven o'clock. He had given up on his search for his missing money. His stomach hurt because he hadn't eaten for almost two days now. He smoked a cigarette to numb the pain. However, the only thing that was on his mind now was the threat that guy gave him. Deidara was certain he was bluffing; he'd never seen him before. Besides, that _boy_ was shorter than him and was probably some rich man's spoiled teenage son, judging by the way he dressed. Deidara was certain he could beat the crap out of anybody; certainly no one else in the world had the kind of power he did.

"Geez, why am I worrying about some stupid kid coming after me?" he mumbled as he played with a little rock. "I can kick his ass, hm."

_But what if he's with the Mafia? _Deidara pushed that ridiculous thought out of his mind. White boys can't be in dangerous gangs. _But bullets are a bit faster than bombs._ That thought, too, was pushed out of mind.

A red sedan pulled into the lot adjacent to Deidara's sidewalk. Anil stepped out, dressed in the black slacks and tucked-in red polo required for work. Deidara simply watched the man unlock the doors to his business and walk inside. That's when his most brilliant idea struck him.

He tossed the cigarette butt into the street, scrambled up and ran over to the store. He burst in through the doors, scaring Anil so much he dropped his nuts. Bags of nuts, I mean.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Anil cursed. "I told you you are not allowed in here! Now leave before I call police!"

Deidara grinned and grabbed one of the papers that was on a stand by the door. He sauntered over to the counter, got a pen, and started filling out the employment papers. Anil stood gaping at the blond's audacity.

"Get out! Get out!" He tried with all his meek might to push the blond out of his store, but to no avail.

Within moments Deidara held up the completed form victoriously.

"No! I will not hire you!" Anil cried.

The two failed to notice a thug running up to the doors. They _did_ notice it when said thug kicked the door so hard he broke the glass.

"_What the fuck!_" Deidara yelled.

The thug whipped out a gun and pointed it at the two. By this time Anil was latched on to Deidara like his life depended on it (because it did).

"Get out of the way!" the burly man demanded.

Anil whimpered and crawled over to the side. He curled into fetal position, hands over head, praying to God he would be safe. Deidara defiantly remained where he stood.

"Get the _fuck_ down!"

Deidara wasn't scared; he could see the gun shaking as the man held it. "I don't take kindly ta _yer_ kind, hm," he smirked with a mock Western accent.

The thug pulled the trigger. The March of Dimes donation jar was blasted into pieces. Deidara had vanished.

The thug panicked and backed up, aiming his gun at any small noise he heard. "Where are you?" he stammered. He noticed Anil all curled up and aimed directly at him. "If you don't come out, I'll fucking kill this pussy right here and now!" he shouted. Thinking he was so clever, he trained his eyes on the security television set above the broken-down doors, making sure no sneak-attacks would be attempted on him.

"I'm gonna do it!" he shouted.

"That's good to know, hm."

"What –"

Deidara easily kicked the gun out of the man's hands, socked him in the face, and forced him onto the ground.

"I called the police. I wish I could kill you myself, but I don't want any negative attention brought on to me, so I'll just leave your punishment to them."

Sirens blared as a police car stopped right in front of the building. Two police officers pulled out, pistols at the ready, and hurried inside. "Get off him!" they ordered of Deidara, who complied without a word.

As the thug was dragged out to the car, Deidara made sure the dick would remember him. "You just got owned by a hobo, bitch!"

Anil ran up to Deidara and threw his arms around him, eternally grateful. "Thank you so much, I am so sorry, thank you, I am so sorry, thank you …"

After about an hour, the mess the dick made was cleaned up. Deidara looked at Anil and grinned. "So, I got the job, right?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" Anil happily exclaimed. He would regret that.


	3. Why Fate Sucks

Despite the excitement of the day, our newly employed but still homeless hero slept peacefully that night as sugar-plums danced in his head.

At five forty-five he woke up and was again pleased when cars blocked Hank from view. This was going to be a good week.

Deidara sat cross legged against the wall and simply watched the richer people go about their morning routine. The deep thought of the morning: Were they more fortunate than him? No. While they were all slaves to bureaucracy, he had the freedom to go wherever he wanted. He sighed. Who was he kidding? What was the point in freedom if it meant he must be an outcast?

His stomach was seriously hurting now and he still had an hour to wait before he could feel important to society. He decided to take a walk around the block to release the little jitters he felt. Walking down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, he suddenly remembered the guy he ran into yesterday and cold fizzed through his blood. He froze, hesitant to go any nearer to that intersection, but then he realized he was just being stupid and continued on his route. He couldn't deny the sense of relief he felt when he managed to turn the corner and not run into anyone.

By the time his stroll was complete, only twenty minutes had passed. So he did it again. And again. A grin broke onto his face when he finally saw Anil's red sedan park itself in front of Butt Drugs.

"Hey!" he called, jogging up to his new employer.

"Ah, you are here and on time. Good, good," Anil said as he unlocked the doors (they were fixed the day that thug destroyed them).

Deidara felt a strange feeling walking into that store and seeing that his name had been removed from the Banned list. It was a good feeling.

Anil looked at the blond, who looked back at him. Suddenly, Anil crinkled his nose and said, "But you _must_ bathe yourself before you touch anything."

Deidara raised an eyebrow and performed the pit check. He most certainly did need a bath.

"Does this place even have a bath? How am I supposed to get clean, hm?"

Anil tilted his head in thought. "Well, we have some baby wipes. Maybe –"

"What an excellent idea!" Deidara sneered. He snagged a box of baby wipes off a shelf and ran into the restroom.

Anil stared at the door the blond had slammed behind him. One minute later, he stepped back, horror-stricken. "The images!"

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><p>"So," Deidara yawned as he stretched. He was carrying with him the refreshing scent of cucumbers, thanks to Pampers. "So, what's your name again?"<p>

"Anil."

Deidara blinked. The corners of his lips twitched. "_Anal_?" he snickered. The looked on "Anal's" face made him laugh even harder. He started laughing so hard his knees buckled and he had to use the counter for support. "Oh my Gaw – Are you _serious? _You own a freaking store named _Butt Drugs_ and your name is _Anal?"_

Anil flushed. "No! It's Anil! _Ah_-_neel_! S-stop laughing at me, or you're fired!"

"Whoah, whoah," Deidara gasped. He straightened and looked at Anil directly in the eyes, still smiling. "Sorry man," he giggled. "Just wasn't … expecting that."

Anil frowned. "Why don't you just help me with the boxes over there, Deidara." He gestured toward the pile of boxes filled with unknown goodies.

Deidara slumped his shoulders and groaned. "Why do I have to work?"

"Because I'm your boss."

"Yeah, and I saved your life, hm, so therefore I should not have to do any manual labour, hm." Deidara was certain that argument would win. It did.

Anil ducked behind the counter as he searched for something. He came back up, holding something large, round, and cardboard.

"May I ask what that is?" Deidara said as he boredly eyed it, leaning on the counter, chin resting in his hand.

Anil flipped it over and grinned evilly. Deidara blanched when he was face-to-face with a ginormous ass with the words "Butt" and "Drugs" tattooed on each cheek.

"What. The. Fu –"

"This is the way we used to advertise before our last advertising guy was – Well, that doesn't matter," he said. He pushed the atrocity towards Deidara, who flinched at it. "Don't worry, it doesn't smell. Try it on!"

Deidara's eye twitched and he looked at Anil incredulously. Homeless or not, he still had enough pride in him to _not_ wear that disgusting shit.

"You know, I have still have my dignity, hm!"

"Oh well, I guess you're fired then," Anil sang.

Deidara widened his eyes and sighed. "Ugh. Fine."

It was noon. Despite it being autumn, the temperature was ninety degrees. Sweat glistening on his neck, Deidara fanned himself with the bundle of fliers he was instructed to hand out to passerby. He was standing on his corner, wearing the ridiculous Butt Drugs sandwich board, and glaring at each and every person who looked out their car window to goggle and laugh at him. Underneath the board he was shirtless in order to stay cool, but it wasn't like anyone would really notice his hard abs, sun kissed skin, impressive muscles … Yes, no one would notice that at all.

Just when Deidara decided to turn in for his lunch break, the bane of his existence pulled up in a silver, $90,000 BMW convertible. The light had just turned red and the other cars started moving, meaning he would be there for a couple minutes.

The redhead, who was sitting in the passenger seat (and thus was only a couple feet away from our mortified blond), stopped conversing with his chauffeur and glanced over at Deidara. He did a double take, a look of surprise on his face. It quickly melted into a devilish smirk.

"I didn't think you'd be this desperate," he lightly chuckled.

Deidara's face felt hot (well, hotter than it already was, considering the temperature) and he balled his fists. "You again?"

The redhead's eyes fell to the fine print that was on the bottom of the board and furrowed his brow. "We do not sell pot, crack, or speed," he read. He looked back up at Deidara's face. "You're so stupid," was all he said before the car behind his honked its horn, signaling it was time to shut up and turn.

Deidara spun on his heels and ran right back into the store, fuming. As soon as his foot was inside he tore off the sandwich board and threw his tank back on.

"What is the matter?" Anil asked. Deidara threw the board at his face.

"I'm taking a lunch break," he mumbled.

He snatched an apple cinnamon Nutri-Grain bar, sat himself right on top of the counter, and commenced eating whilst plotting the bloody demise of that redhead.

Anil poked him in the back. "Hey, you are going to have to pay for that."

"Just take it from my pay check," Deidara growled.

Anil walked over to face his upset employee. "What is the matter with you?" he demanded.

Deidara didn't respond. He crunched up the wrapper and tossed it right into the trash bin.

"You must get off the counter," Anil said.

Deidara turned himself and slid off so he could look at the bulletin board that was stationed where a window should be. He felt tempted to add "Gingers" to the Banned list.

Bells chimed as someone entered. Deidara listened as Anil gave the customer a sickeningly polite greeting.

Deidara just stood there quietly, facing the bulletin board. About a minute passed when:

"What? Are you in timeout now because you threw a tantrum?"


	4. Pride and Prejudice

**A/N in a nutshell:** Apologies for: Lateness, shortness, and scene skipping.  
>To blame: Writer's block and a lessened liking for SasoDei. (Note the change in genre.)<br>I understand how unrealistic I wrote this. Who gives a damn? Is fun.

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><p>At that exact moment, one could hear <em>O Fortuna<em> begin playing in the background.

"Goddammit, Anil! Change the radio station!" Deidara cursed. The song switched from the dramatic orchestral piece to something by that Bieber girl.

Not unlike the Dramatic Chipmunk, Deidara melodramatically turned his head to face his adversary.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, blue eye twitching.

The redhead looked at him blankly. "I just wanted to borrow that pen," he said as he took aforementioned pen from the cup.

He placed a piece of paper on the counter. Deidara watched anxiously as Sasori wrote, circled things, and tapped the pen on his chin.

"What are you doing here?" Deidara repeated.

His blood ran cold when the redhead handed Anil the paper. Anil's eyes scanned it.

"Hm … Yes … Yes … Oh, yes!" Anil exclaimed. He looked excitedly at the flabbergasted blond and threw an arm around the smirking redhead. "Guess who's our newest employee? I can't believe my business is growing so fast!"

Deidara hung his head. Fate had officially fucked him for life.

"Don't be so disappointed," Sasori said coolly. "I'll only be on janitorial duty during the night shift twice a week."

Deidara looked up. "What's your name?" he growled.

"Sasori," Anil answered for him.

A strange, twisted grin broke onto the blond's face. He pointed at Sasori. "Well, _Sasori_, you know something?"

Sasori raised an eyebrow.

"I'm your _superior_, hm!"

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><p>Deidara sighed out of boredom. Honestly, was Anil retarded or something? How has he not realized that most sane people would want to <em>avoid<em> a place called Butt Drugs? He resorted to ripping up employment forms into tiny pieces and flicking them at Sasori.

Sasori.

"Why are you still here, anyway?" he demanded. Sasori was standing next to him doing nothing, his Clive Christian cologne clogging the blond's unsophisticated nostrils.

"I just want to get a feel for the place," the one Deidara considered his _inferior_ replied.

Anil came up to them. "Why are you not back outside advertising?" he asked Deidara.

"Ah, crap." Deidara reluctantly grabbed the ass-shaped sandwich board he had entirely forgotten about and left the store, not giving his _inferior_ even the dignity of a glance back.

Sasori gazed at Anil for a few moments. "Does anything normal ever happen here?"

Anil tilted his head, thinking. "Uh, no." And with that, he spun on his heels and returned to restocking the shelves.

Sasori just stood there for a little while longer. Then, he pulled out his faux alligator skin wallet, dug out a crisp one hundred dollar bill, and placed it neatly inside the cash register.

Hands in his designer jacket pockets, he left the store without a word.

* * *

><p><em>I need a smoke,<em> Deidara mused as he fanned himself with the flyers. Anil told him to dance a little while outside; Deidara told him to suck it. He murmured that part, of course; he didn't want to get fired _yet_. He knew it was only around 2:30. He wouldn't get to leave til 4:30.

A sudden tap on the board made Deidara jump. It was Sasori.

"Back off man, I'm a kung fu black belt," Deidara growled.

Sasori was unfazed. "As am I. But it's not like you'd accomplish much with _that_ around your neck."

"What do you want now, hm? Can't you see I don't_ like _you?"

"I have also seen that you're homeless. I'm offering you this once and only once, so you better be listen: I will let you live in my house as a roommate _if_ you are willing to help me with my _real_ job."

Deidara blinked. It was too much.

"Do you honestly think I'd say _yes_ like some stupid bitch! I don't even _know _you, first off, and when we first met you _threatened_ me, hm! You think you have the right to look down on me just because I'm not a rich, snobby priss like yourself?" His temper really fired up and his voice raised. "I don't give a shit what you do, hm! It's not worth shit if all you're gonna do is flaunt your billion dollar Gucci jacket and Ferrari while pretending to sympathize with the less fortunate …" His voice trailed off when he realized what he just called himself. _Less fortunate_.

Sasori had a look of surprise on his face, but it quickly morphed into anger. "How stupid _are_ you? I am an upper class citizen worth more to society than you'll ever be, yet I decide to be _kind_ enough to offer a tramp like you a nice bed to sleep in. And you _decline_ it simply because you're too prideful! Sickening. You realize your_ true_ pride died the moment you were cast out into the streets?"

Deidara grit his teeth and balled his fists, knuckles turning white. Words could not express his anger.

Sasori ripped the board off him.

"What the fuck? Why did you do that?" Deidara cried.

Sasori ignored the blond and walked the board over to his car. He placed it in the back seat, then took out his cell phone and called his chauffeur. Ten seconds later he snapped the phone shut and walked back to the confused, fuming (and shirtless) blond.

"I already paid the business more than it'll make in a week," he stated flatly. "Get in the car. I hate seeing homeless people." He added that last part under his breath.

Deidara had to be dragged into the car. Unfortunately for him, it is a fact that Sasori is stronger than him. He struggled to get out, but Sasori, sitting in the passenger seat, locked the doors. The chauffeur then entered and without a word started the engine.


	5. Mi Casa es Su Casa

"You realize this is kidnapping?" Deidara asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Sasori deadpanned.

"And that kidnapping is _illegal?_"

At this, the chauffeur gave a light chuckle. "Of course it is, Master Deidara," the man said with a decidedly British accent, smiling at the pissed off blond in the rear-view mirror. The car's roof was put up.

His cap covered his wispy grey hair and his face was marked with laugh lines and crows feet. Disgusting old people. He was probably a paedophiliac rapist.

"How do you even know my name?" Deidara demanded.

"What radio station would you like, Master Sasori?" the chauffeur asked, ignoring the blond.

"89.1. Classical, like always," Sasori responded. "Thank you, William." He gazed out the window with the epitome of boredom etched onto his face – as though kidnapping someone was the least exciting thing he'd every done.

Deidara frowned. The car was incredibly comfortable, but the AC was killing him.

"Hey, um, William?" Deidara piped. William raised a brow. "Could you turn down the AC? I'm freezing back here."

"No problem, Master Deidara."

About twenty minutes of silence followed with only the voices of the stringed instruments preventing an awkward silence. Finally, Deidara could not take it anymore and decided to strike up conversation with William, who he deemed a far superior human being to Sasori despite his initial judgment.

"Hey, William?"

"Hm?"

"So, you're from England, hm?"

"Wales, actually," William grinned. "But I _was_ raised in London for most of my life."

"So how did you go from living in London to working with _him?_" Deidara asked, eyes boring holes into the back of Sasori's headrest.

William frowned. "Well, Sasori's father, who was living in London at the time, was the one who hired me as a chauffeur. Then, after a couple decades, I wound up here in Las Vegas serving Master Sasori."

"Ah." In all honesty, Deidara was not impressed with William's biography.

A few more minutes of silence.

Deidara's eyes widened as the car drove through a neighbourhood comprised solely of mansions. William stopped the car to enter a pass code for a pair of gold painted gates to open, and the car pulled into a large garage with several expensive sports cars parked inside.

"We're here." The first words out of Sasori's mouth in half an hour.

"No shit," Deidara breathed.

"Ah, home," William smiled. Whistling, he opened the doors for both boys.

Deidara immediately turned and ran out the garage so he could get another look at the white mansion. At least four stories, quite possibly five, spanning the length of three two-stories. A dolphin fountain was the centerpiece of the lawn. Three tall oak trees were spread out on the neatly mowed grass, unchipped white pavement snaking its way around to the front door.

"Holy _shit_ man," Deidara gaped.

"Master Deidara, come now! Master Sasori would like you to come inside!" William called from the garage.

Eyes still on the front facade of the mansion, Deidara sprinted back into the garage. Sasori was standing in the doorway into the house, foot tapping and arms crossed.

"How – " Deidara began.

"Never mind that. Come on, I hate waiting," Sasori stated as he grabbed Deidara's wrist and pulled him inside.

If the exterior of the mansion impressed Deidara, the interior took his breath away. I could go on and on describing the white walls and sparkly tiles, but Deidara was more focused on the art than any of those things. On ebony tables ivory and bronze figurines and cultural pottery made their homes. Tastefully arranged paintings – classical, pop, modern, contemporary, abstract – decorated every wall. Was that Da Vinci? And Paolo Ucello?

Sasori chose to ignore the gawking Deidara and continued to tug him all the way into the kitchen, William following behind. Being as large of a house as his was, it took about a minute to do so. Their footsteps echoed loudly. They passed a living room, grand piano, and two twisting flights of stairs. Deidara gazed up at a massive crystal chandelier that hung from the high ceiling. Sasori did not show it, but a fuzzy feeling of smug pride fluttered inside him.

The roomy kitchen had a modern vibe with stainless steel countertops and a large island in the centre. It was a step above the dining room and had a cherry floor as opposed to marble tile. Sasori let go of Deidara and snatched a couple apples from the fruit basket. Leaning back on the counter, he casually tossed the dumbfounded blond one. Deidara and William sat themselves at the island.

"Master Sasori, welcome home," a female gently voiced. "And I see you brought a guest."

At this Deidara turned around and saw a pretty Japanese-looking woman hardly older than himself. She donned a maid's uniform and was rubbing a something clean with a piece of cloth, her dark hair tied in a neat ponytail.

"Hello, I am Haruna, the maid," she said to Deidara.

"Pleasure to meet you." Deidara turned back to Sasori, a huge grin on his face and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I'm _really_ gonna like it here, hm."

Sasori's face remained emotionless as he bit into his apple. "I want you to go take a thorough shower before you touch anything else in my house," he finally said after swallowing.

"Thanks for showing me around," Deidara retorted.

Sasori looked over to Haruna. "Please disinfect Deidara's seat and the tabletop when he's done."

"Yes, Master Sasori."

"I'll show you the bathroom when you're ready," William said.

Deidara, who somehow managed to gobble up most of his apple, tossed the core onto the tabletop and hopped off his seat. "Please do – I need to take a crap."

Everyone internally sweatdropped.

Deidara stuck his tongue out. "I was just kidding! How gross do you think I am?"

The first real shower Deidara took in a long time felt awesome. Out of habit, he would open his mouth, let water fill it, and then spit it all back out. He was too distracted doing that and pretending he could shoot water out his fingers to notice someone quietly slip into the bathroom, drop a bundle of fresh clothing onto the counter for him, and slip back out.

There was a surprising variety of products to be found in that particular shower, and Deidara could not resist trying each and every one. When he was finished with his forty-five minute shower, he came out smelling of coconut, vanilla and honey, Dove soap, banana and cinnamon, and whatever the hell "Sexilicious" is.

He was surprised by the clothes but graciously accepted them. Clean socks and boxers, white slacks, a fashionably ripped up grey t-shirt, and a dark blue cardigan – Not his style, but they did have Gucci tags on them. He wiped a section of the foggy mirror clear so he could see himself. As he adjusted his cardigan, long hair wrapped in a towel, he felt almost like a sultan.

He stepped out of the bathroom feeling refreshed. To his right was one flight of stairs. To his left was a living room with no one in it. No one seemed to be around, leaving Deidara with the awkward feeling of being lost.

"Um, _hello?_" he called out.

Hurried thuds down the steps signaled someone coming down to meet him. He half expected Sasori and was surprised to see yet another woman. She looked to be only a few years older than Haruna, possibly in her mid to late twenties, and she was quite the looker. Except she was also wielding a baseball bat.

She looked at him with as much surprise on her face as was on his. She was garbed in a nightgown even though it was three in the afternoon. The most surprising thing about her was the fact that her shoulder-length hair was dyed a very deep peacock blue. She had bedhead, and Deidara could even see the sleep in her eyes.

The buxom woman stayed still, one hand on the rail, and looked at Deidara before jumping the remaining steps and charging at him with the full intention of beating him with the baseball bat.

"_Who the hell do you think you are?"_ she snarled as she started swinging.

Poor Deidara was terribly confused. Not wanting to hurt her, he resorted to only backing away as she swung at him.

"_I'll show you what happens when you break into the wrong fucking house!"_

"_Holy shit, stop, woman!"_ Deidara cried out as she accidentally broke a vase.

The swings kept coming.

As Deidara noticed how close he was getting to the fireplace, he knew he had to act. With one swift hand he managed to stop the bat mid-swing. Before the crazed bitch could react, Sasori's voice rang out through the room:

"Konan, stop! He isn't an intruder!"

Konan's grey eyes widened.

_Look at how stupid you look now, bitch,_ Deidara internally growled.

Sasori hustled over to them and put a hand on Konan's bony shoulder. She immediately relaxed.

"He – he isn't?" she asked weakly.

Sasori only looked hard at her. Her pretty eyes widened and ruby lips formed a little "o" when she realized how wild she had reacted.

Eyes coloured like a louring sky met eyes coloured like a calm sky.

"I – I'm so sorry," she stuttered. She opened her mouth to say more but Sasori silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Go back upstairs, Konan, and come back down when you are presentable."

Even though Konan had threatened to beat him to death just moments ago, Deidara couldn't help but internally wince at how Sasori's cold voice held a sharp tinge in it.

At this the bluenette, head down, meekly trudged back up the stairs and presumably into her room.

"Who … was she?" Deidara asked.

Sasori gave him a little smirk. "A dirty little secret."

* * *

><p><strong>One quick note:<strong> I am so sorry I utterly fail at description. My only excuse is that I never lived or even been inside a mansion, but that isn't a very good one, now is it? So ... unless I start specifying things, just imagine Sasori's mansion like how you'd imagine your dream mansion! Hey, you gotta give me credit for popping out a long(er) chapter!  
>P.S. Deidara is 19 in this story.<br>P.S.S. To all of my readers and reviewers: You are the smartest and sexiest people alive. I love you!


	6. Family

**A/N:** You have a right to shoot me for this super-late update. I'm sorry. The Muses abandoned me for some time, and the story is coming more slowly than I would have liked. :/ There _is_ a plot, but we won't get to it til ... Well, to not spoil anything, I'll just say later.

* * *

><p>"'Dirty little secret?'" Deidara asked.<p>

Sasori's smirk broke into something of a grin. "She's my boss's girlfriend."

Deidara gaped stupidly. "Excuse me?"

"I'm doing my boss's girlfriend," Sasori stated bluntly. "Hence the hair – "

"Holy _shit_ man!" Deidara laughed. He reached out to pat Sasori on the shoulder, but the redhead pulled back like the snob he truly was. Still, Deidara could not believe this juicy tidbit. "Oh God, un. _Sasori? You?_ Sasori, my man, that's just … " Deidara shook his head. "And here I thought you had a stick up your ass, un."

Sasori _hnned_. "Don't ever call me 'your man' ever again. Oh, and you'll meet my boss later tonight when you come to work with me." He sat himself on one end of his brown plush sofa; Deidara plopped down right next to him, disregarding the concept of "personal space." Sasori raised a slim eyebrow at this but ignored it and proceeded to file his manicured nails.

"I forgot I was supposed to work with you," Deidara said. "What do you do anyway, my man?"

Sasori was preoccupying himself with filing his nails and thus (pretended he) didn't hear the blond's question.

"Hey! You, ginger, hm! What do you _do?"_

"You'll see," he replied vaguely, not taking his eyes off his nails.

Deidara rolled his eyes. He stretched out and rested his feet on the wooden coffee table that was littered with magazines of all sorts, kicking several off.

With his hands in his lap and his feet stretched out, Deidara let his head loll to the side so he could look at Sasori. Sasori twitched because he could feel Deidara's breathing. "So, where am I supposed to sleep?" Deidara realized Sasori had neglected to tell him any such important details.

"Haruna is making the finishing touches to your room. It will be on the third floor, and you _will_ have a television. It will be far superior to your previous … arrangement."

Deidara stared ahead. Two armchairs and one small table with a large lamp were placed directly in front of a wide window with cream drapes drawn. On the mantel were several trophies and what appeared to be old holiday cards; a painting of a harbour was hung above it.

The wide screen plasma TV to their left suddenly turned on.

"Hey, haven't watched TV in a while," Deidara grinned.

Sasori tuned in to _Spongebob Squarepants._

"_Psst! Hey, Patrick?"_

"_Yeah Spongebob?"_

"_Wanna know what's funnier than 24?"_

"_What?"_

"_25!"_

"You watch this crap?" Deidara questioned.

"No," Sasori sighed. He was now flipping through the pages of _People_ magazine. "But I need something that will keep your little mind entertained while we wait til your room is finished."

"You think you're more sophisticated than me, hm?"

Sasori looked over at Deidara. "Yes."

No matter how many murderous thoughts had flooded the blond's mind at that moment, he ended up distracted by the antics in _Spongebob_ for two whole episodes before he remembered there was someone next to him.

"I told you," Sasori muttered under his breath.

"Huh? Oh, hey."

Sasori checked his wrist watch. 4:30. Two more hours before he had to leave for work.

"Excuse me, Deidara?" Haruna's voice called out.

"Hm!"

"You're room is ready!"

Deidara and Sasori exchanged a glance before jumping up and having a sort of race up the spiral stairs.

"Brat, why are you running? You don't even know where it is!"

Deidara beat Sasori up the stairs, although it was because the redhead stopped running in favour of taking his time. Haruna stood outside Deidara's room with a weary smile on her face. "Right in here, Deidara, sir." She stepped aside and motioned him inside.

Deidara casually stepped into the room to take in the details. He nodded in approval when he saw that he had his own kitchenette equipped with a microwave and refrigerator. A glass sliding door separated the room from a spacious deck that looked out over grassy hills and what appeared to be a stable some distance away. Deidara did not care much for horses but the thought of being able to see them roaming freely from his window pleased him. He also had a neatly made king-sized bed with red sheets – red was his favourite colour. A flat screen TV hung on the wall opposite the bed. An antique wardrobe was put in the corner.

Deidara leaped onto his bed and rolled around on the sheets. This was exactly what he'd been wishing for for so long. A bed. A home.

Sasori and Haruna leaned in the doorway and watched the idiot roll around.

Deidara looked around the room one more time. He almost had a heart attack when he noticed _the thing_ in the corner.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "What the fuck _is_ that?"

Haruna gave Sasori a confused look. Sasori gave Deidara a death glare. "It's a puppet, you moron."

Puppet or not, it was the _creepiest_ thing Deidara had ever seen in a long time. The thing was human-sized and had long, tangled-looking dark brown hair, wide eyes with no irises, four arms and one leg, a toothless grin … The worst thing about it was that it faced Deidara's bed. Deidara shuddered.

"It's disgusting, un," he said finally.

Sasori stiffened and his face darkened. "Are you insulting my art?" he growled dangerously. Haruna was smart enough to find an excuse to hurry down the stairs and away from Sasori before things got out of hand.

Deidara looked at him weirdly. _He calls _that thing_ art? _Deidara thought in confusion. He thought paintings were Sasori's art, not freaky-ass puppet things that belonged in horror movies.

"You think that's art?" Deidara asked. He got up and hastily pushed the puppet under his bed, holding it only by the hair and refusing to look down at it like it.

"Don't you dare do that!" Sasori snapped. He ran over and retrieved his precious art. He held it like it was his child or something. "You better not insult any of my puppets unless you want a foot up your ass."

Deidara raised an eyebrow. "Oho, first you think you're more sophisticated than me, hm, then you dare compare _true art_ to a piece of shit like that, and now you think you can kick my–"

Even Deidara found what happened next to be surprising. Sasori made a sudden move to punch the blond with his free arm, which moved too fast to be caught by most people, yet somehow Deidara caught it anyway without thinking, as though his body had subconsciously prepared for that in advance.

Sasori blinked, slightly surprised as no one before had managed to block any of his hits. He jerked his arm back and readjusted the puppet in his arms. "Meet me in my bedroom on the fourth floor when you're ready," he said. He backed up and walked out, leaving Deidara alone to mull over how wrong that sentence sounded.

"Wait! I don't know where your room is, hm!" Deidara yelled. When no response came, he rolled his eyes and walked over to his fridge.

He was surprised to find it stocked with most of his favourite treats – basic water bottles, bottled fruit smoothies, Kit Kats, Snickers, plums, string cheese. Everything except beer, but of course Deidara wasn't the legal age to drink that anyway. He grabbed a smoothie and turned on the TV to _Spongebob Squarepants_ – not that he liked it, it just put his mind at ease.

* * *

><p>Deidara woke up. The sky was dark blue and the only light came from the television. He remembered Sasori telling him to see him when he was ready, and after taking a nap, Deidara felt ready for anything – even Sasori. He glanced at the clock beside him. 5:40.<p>

"Ugh." He dragged his hand through his hair and tightened his ponytail before leaving his beloved room and trudging up the stairs.

The fourth floor did not look significantly different from the third floor except for the different paintings. Deidara walked up and down the corridor, opening doors to see which one led to Sasori's room. Common sense told him that Sasori's room would be the master bedroom, yet when Deidara looked in there, he only came face to face with even more creepy puppets. He abruptly shut the door.

"Sasori?" He tried opening one of the doors but it was locked. He banged on it. "Hey, you in there?"

"Wait," came Sasori's slightly muffled voice.

A split second later the door flung open, revealing a bare-chested Sasori with black dress pants and a dress shirt in his arm. His hair looked dark and damp like he had just taken a shower. "Hurry," he said, pulling the blond in and pushing him onto the bed.

"Whoah, whoah, man, slow down!" Deidara said, his face warm. "I'm not like that, un!"

Sasori wanted to tell Deidara how stupid he was, but he decided against it and only stood in front of the full-body mirror with his back to Deidara,.

"Konan will measure you in just a little bit," he said, putting the shirt on. "I – _we_ need to leave for work in half an hour."

Just as he said that, Konan, with her blue hair now in a neat bun, stepped into the room with measuring tape. This time she was wearing a sparkly black cocktail dress and high heels as well as ultramarine eyeshadow, making her all the more stunning. Sasori gave her a disinterested glance as he adjusted his tuxedo. He grabbed a black tie that was on the dresser.

"Deidara, I apologize for what happened earlier today," Konan said softly.

"Uh, sure," Deidara said as Konan made him hold his arms out so she could measure them. She smelt of vanilla, to his pleasure.

Konan wrapped the tape around his chest and asked him to stand so she could measure his height.

"What size is he?" Sasori asked. In his tuxedo, Deidara had to admit Sasori truly was a good-looking guy.

Konan didn't answer him. She only looked inside the wardrobe and pulled out a suit. She held it up to Deidara and nodded.

"Put this on," she said, pushing him towards the bathroom that was connected to the room.

Deidara kept his back to the toilet the entire time. _Sasori needs to get over his puppet fetish,_ he thought.

He stepped out into the hallway, tux on and feeling hot – both figuratively and literally. He tugged at the collar uncomfortably. He went straight down the stairs, this time slowly to avoid overheating.

Sasori and Konan were in the living room, the former sitting in the armchair closest to the stairs, the latter on the sofa. Konan smiled when she saw the blond.

Sasori, however, frowned. "How could we forget to brush your hair?" he grumbled. He grabbed a hairbrush that just happened to be on the table next to him and walked over to Deidara.

"What's wrong with my hair?" Deidara demanded.

Sasori stood behind him, pulled the hair tie out, and brushed out his long golden hair. After each brush stroke he would run his fingers through the hair just to make sure there were no tangles. Deidara thought it felt weird – Sasori was a dude after all - but he said nothing against it.

"Deidara, you have such beautiful hair," Konan commented. "I am jealous."

The blond grinned.

Sasori brushed Deidara's hair back into a high half pony. He then quickly brushed out his bang.

"There, done." He sounded like that was the most tedious task he had ever done.

"Not bad, Sasori, my man," Deidara said, feeling just how soft his hair felt.

The two locked eyes. Sasori suddenly reached into his pocket, pulled out a little bottle that looked like a bottle of cologne, and told Deidara to open wide.

"What?"

"Just do it. And don't swallow."

_Why is it that _everything_ you say sounds wrong? _A cool mist tasting strongly of orange filled Deidara's mouth. He scrunched his nose in distaste.

"You couldn't just give me a mint?"

"Masters Sasori and Deidara, Miss Konan!" William entered through the front door. "Are you all ready to go to work?"

"Yes," Sasori and Konan answered simultaneously. Deidara stayed quiet because he was still confused about this whole "work" thing.

"Come on," Sasori said. He walked out with William and looked back to make sure Deidara was following.

William opened the door and the two entered the BMW, except this time Sasori sat himself in the back with Deidara.

"It is polite to let the lady have shotgun," he explained.

"Where is the lady?" Deidara asked. Konan had not followed them outside.

"She might be in the restroom. No worries, Master Deidara, we always arrive a few minutes early," William assured him. He started the car. "Would you two mind waiting in here? I think _I_ need to use the restroom as well."

"Go," Sasori said. His hand propped his chin up and he gazed out the window.

"You're so monotonous, un," Deidara remarked.

Sasori glared at him. "You're so immature. And put your seat belt on."

"At least I'm not a creep! And no!"

"What did you say?"

A thought suddenly crossed his mind. He knew it was a rude and awkward question to ask, but he might as well ask it since the two were alone. "Sasori?"

"_Yes?"_

"You _do_ only like girls, right?"

Sasori raised an eyebrow but looked away. "I'm not picky," he said after a moment of silence.

Deidara felt uncomfortable. "So … you're … "

"I'm not picky," Sasori repeated in a slightly harsher tone.

"Do – do you like Konan?"

"I lose interest after one night."

Deidara's eyebrows almost ripped themselves from his forehead. "That's a little … misogynistic, my man."

Sasori rolled his eyes. "I'm not a misogynist, I just do. And I told you not to call me that."

"Oh, okay." Deidara regretted ever getting into this conversation. He felt relieved when Konan entered the car.

"Hello," she greeted the two. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting." She was looking at Sasori as she said this.

Sasori lifted his fingers in a dismissive wave of sorts. Deidara gave her a nod. He was annoyed at how badly Sasori treated Konan and made a mental note to tell him off for it later.

A minute later William jogged to the car.

"Everybody ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," Deidara answered. Konan glanced back at him and his eyes immediately averted his eyes, face warm for some reason. His blue eyes fell upon Sasori, who didn't seem to notice.

_Maybe I'm getting too comfortable with them?_ Deidara thought as the BMW pulled through the gates and away from the neighbourhood.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind told him kept repeating the word _"family"_ to him.

_Konan is the mother, William is the father, and Haruna is the sister._ That thought sped through his mind too fast for him to push it back. It repeated itself a couple times despite his attempts to restrain it.

_And Sasori is my l – best fr – brother._

"Brother only," Deidara mumbled under his breath.

* * *

><p><strong>More AN:** What _is_ Sasori's job anyway? Does Deidara have feelings for Konan, Haruna, or … ? Will this fic turn into a SasoDei one? What was the first thing Deidara was about to call Sasori? Why am I asking these questions? Find out next time in the Marvelous Misadventures of – Whoops, wrong title. I meant Groceries!


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